In that hour of revision
You revisit the dank and the dour
When the taste of love is all but gone
Sour
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
When I look in your eyes
I surrender
The surrender is rendered justified
You stand with one boot upon my fender
Reflecting on my
Glass eye
You revisit the dank and the dour
When the taste of love is all but gone
Sour
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
When I look in your eyes
I surrender
The surrender is rendered justified
You stand with one boot upon my fender
Reflecting on my
Glass eye
Isobel Campbell:
There, amongst the willows and the briars
On the streets between all the man-made spires
In an entangulation of too many wires
There, amongst the willows and the briars
On the streets between all the man-made spires
In an entangulation of too many wires
Love's translation still transpires
Howe Gelb:
Every girl is like a pearl
Every girl is like a pearl
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
Heart strung along and then left stranded
Howe Gelb:
This world is worn
All frayed and torn
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
Admitting you to form is not
What love had demanded
Howe Gelb:
When I look in your eyes
I surrender
The surrender is rendered justified
Isobel Campbell:
All frayed and torn
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
Admitting you to form is not
What love had demanded
Howe Gelb:
When I look in your eyes
I surrender
The surrender is rendered justified
Isobel Campbell:
Stand with a boot upon my fender
Gave up my time
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
Reflecting on my glass eye
...
I lost me my eye in a battle
Gave up my time
Howe Gelb and Isobel Campbell:
Reflecting on my glass eye
...
I lost me my eye in a battle
Went there to rattle her cage
And I lost sight of the big picture
Now this permanent fixture is
Your rage
...
You are looking just so fine
Reflecting upon my glass eye.
Now this permanent fixture is
Your rage
...
You are looking just so fine
Reflecting upon my glass eye.
21 comments:
Milan Kundera's Immortality
From "Addition and Subtraction"
In our world, where there are more and more faces, more and more alike, it is difficult for an individual to reinforce the originality of the self and to become convinced of its inimitable uniqueness. There are two methods for cultivating the uniqueness of the self: the method of addition and the method of subtraction. Agnes subtracts from her self everything that is exterior and borrowed, in order to become closer to her sheer essence (even with the risk that zero lurks at the bottom of the subtraction). Laura's method is precisely the opposite: in order to make her self more visible, perceivable, seizable, sizable, she keeps adding to it more and more attributes and she attempts to identify herself with them (with the risk that the essence of the self may be buried by the additional attributes).
...
Here is the strange paradox to which all people cultivating the self by way of addition method are subject: they use addition in order to create a unique, inimitable self, yet because they automatically become propagandists for the added attributes, they are actually doing everything in their power to make as many others as possible similar to themselves; as a result, their uniqueness (so painfully gained) quickly begins to disappear.
No, this isn't my hand.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J%C3%A4gerbomb
No, I didn't partake that evening, either.
I thought it was pertinent to the tone of the song...the German 70-proof digestif with an energy drink.
It would take more than an hour of revision to smooth out the rough edges of the recent Card XIII. Invocation of physical decay and urn burial is much easier for a person without true stability.
“Anyhow, he asks himself, what is an intimate secret? Is that where we hide what's most mysterious, most singular, most original about a human being? Are her intimate secrets what make Chantal the unique being he loves? No. What people keep secret is the most common, the most ordinary, the most prevalent thing, the same thing everybody has: the body and its needs, it maladies, its manias - constipation, for instance, or menstruation. We ashamedly conceal these intimate matters not because they are so personal but because, on the contrary, they are so lamentably impersonal. How can he resent Chantal, for belonging to her sex, for resembling other women, for wearing a brassiere and along with it the brassiere psychology? As if he didn't himself belong to some eternal masculine idiocy! The both of them got their start in that putterer's workshop where their eyes were botched with the disjointed action of the eyelid and where a reeking little factory was installed in their bellies. They both of them have bodies where their poor souls have almost no room. Shouldn't they forgive that in each other? Shouldn't they move beyond the little weaknesses they're hiding at the bottom of drawers? He was gripped by an enormous compassion, and to draw a final lune under that whole story, he decided to write her one last letter.”
― Milan Kundera, Identity
The repetitious inner turmoil recalls disgust with reversions to status and the bosom of the family; the reward for intense investigation, intimate and otherwise, with the threat of disconnection, and the concluding "go ahead, destroy what is left...keep going." Later, I was disgusted with myself for being like that, and being inclined to force the point on sensitive matters.
"The body part associated with the eighth house is the genitals, the private parts, as the eighth house is where we feel the most vulnerable and exposed. Yet, it is these organs that create life itself. In many ways, the life we are creating emanates from the depth of our fear and insecurities, and the capacity to transform them into strengths.
[...]
The Moon in the eighth house tends to bring a lot of psychological fears into the mind of the native. Sudden and unexpected losses are often hardest for the Moon, the place where we feel the most easily hurt and the most vulnerable to begin with. Often there is a difficult relationship with the mother with these natives, and an expectation of fear and chaos with intimacy. However, these difficulties often compel an individual to have a deep interest in the occult and are often healers, astrologers, etc.
[...]
A self evolving/self-correcting process leads forward from houses five through eight, but also backwards from houses and eight through five. The things we love the most (fifth House) create the most work and require the most sacrifice and effort (six house). Our willingness to do that work connects us with the people we desire (seventh House). The intense mutual needs of these seventh house interactions awaken our deepest fears, vulnerabilities and stresses of the eighth house."
http://vedicartandscience.com/vedic-astrology-eighth-house-emotional-liberation/#sthash.0BeNQsOJ.dpuf
Do I erase this? I kept it for the Kundera. I do not want to apply someone's inevitability (of separation) to the present situation.
http://books.google.com/books?id=VRA2Cah65O8C&pg=PA811&lpg=PA811&focus=viewport&dq=coeur+d%27oursin&output=html_text
When pruning away some of the larger concerns of the lyric poem, death seems to be what is left. I am trying to avoid that course, but it is difficult to be candid without exposing the faults of my position.
It did not occur to me last night, but I was reading "Chantal" from the 1982 Pantheon edition. I was drawn to it on my library, and read it, instead of Dream Diary yesterday.
http://www.lrb.co.uk/v04/n12/stephen-bann/female-relationships
Her first novella is bleak, but instructive.
The situation with Anne, who asserts her sexual independence, and pays for it, with a forced marriage, and then Chantal's transfer to Chartres is explained as an act of bad faith.
I suppose there was a backward tendency to read projected life; timing, and parsing obligations, as resistance. To reiterate, I wish often that it was your choice to make, without any appearance of opportunism. The genes and name would correlate, and I would be as happy even though there is inelegance doubling the primary caregiver's name, mother. I was a mother to a child before, and it never bothered me to be called my first name, Jackie.
It is a question so deep that I would not know how to summon the language; my preference is to be as unconscious about motives or potential conflicts, and see what happens. I do know that it is not simply a projection. Though I may have dismissed it then, it was a remarkably cathartic experience to drop in one evening, and see this unrelated, sick baby sitting on the floor, and just before I was about to leave, she shouted my name, crying every time I attempted to put her down. Whatever one chooses to call it, I knew that I had a soul contract with this person.
So whether the future happens one way or some compromise in between, I feel that involves you.
I suppose I should confess, since there is a resonance with her films, that I have a sibling that has gone almost as far this young man. I cannot remember a day growing up, when we were together, that was not exacerbated by his behavior. He is very much like his father, who was drawing swastikas on his notebooks and bashing in the neighbor's MG with a golf club (his father went behind, and paid, of course), and hence my relief that I am only a hairbreadth of a relation to my brother, and none at all to the senior Keith.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrTTDPgq99U
http://www.gtweekly.com/index.php/santa-cruz-columns-commentary-oped/good-times-astrology-/6574-risa-astrology.html
http://passeurdesciences.blog.lemonde.fr/2015/05/14/une-plante-pour-detecter-les-diamants/
http://www.openlettersmonthly.com/book-review-leonardo-michelangelo-and-the-art-of-the-figure/
Yes, you are right that I am evading a lunar investigation because the feeling of being vulnerable in those contexts, indicated by the eighth house, are difficult. I am working toward them, and you.
http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/436526?rpp=30&pg=1&od=on&ft=van+gogh&who=Gogh%2c+Vincent+van%24Vincent+van+Gogh&pos=12
I want to read it for my birthday. I have a quotation in my high school yearbook. I liked the poem on its own merits, but then I read his other work in translation. A game where life is the stake.
Excerpted from this one: http://www.uvm.edu/~presdent/mayakovskypoem.html
http://www.conjunctions.com/online/article/vladimir-mayakovsky-11-12-2013
https://books.google.com/books?id=YN9XBQAAQBAJ&lpg=PP1&dq=Mayakovsky%20Jangfeldt%20Watson%20%22A%20Cloud%20in%20Trousers%22&pg=PA70#v=onepage&q&f=false
https://ruverses.com/vladimir-mayakovsky/good-treatment-of-horses/3544/
https://www.routledge.com/Systems-Medicine-Physiological-Circuits-and-the-Dynamics-of-Disease/Alon/p/book/9781032412283
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MEKyevxR4jXhP9WOhdwklIo5mSr4ir6r/edit
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